Chapter 4: "What're We Gonna Tell Your Pa?"

Ooh la la.

HER DAD SAVED HEBE AND me, although he didn't know it.

After our hugs and good-nights to Rachel and Rick, I'd poked and prodded and finally dragged a sleepy tousled Hebe out to the car and stuffed her into the passenger seat. I was dreading the encounter with her mom. I knew her dad would have checked in with her at midnight, even if he wasn't waiting for us with a shotgun. Waiting for me, that is, not Hebe. He'd leave Hebe's punishment to her mother.

I've rarely been as scared as I was when Hebe put her key in the lock at her front door and I was trying desperately one last time to think up a good line. Before she could turn it, the door and key were jerked out of her hands and the door was thrown open hard enough to bang against the hall doorstop. Mrs. H stood there in her dressing gown, and I figured we were dead. The only possible glimmer of hope, and it was a pretty weak one, was that I couldn't see Mr. Z anywhere behind her.

"Inside, both of you."

I followed Hebe inside and down the hall to the kitchen. Mrs. H pointed at the kitchen table.

"Sit."

I studied her face as closely as I could without seeming to stare. I doubt I concealed my anxiety, and I was right.

"Stop staring, Sam."

I figured some toadying might be in order.

"Yes, ma'am."

"And quit trying to grease me up."

"Yes, Mrs. H."

"That's better."

She didn't sit down. She circled the table. I felt her stare in the center of my shoulder blades, and wondered if she was figuring out where to put the knife I was sure she had concealed somewhere on her person. She moved behind Hebe and repeated her examination. She put her fingers on the side of Hebe's neck for a few moments, and repeated the action on the other side. Hebe sat silent, her eyes shut tight. Perhaps she was hoping this was all a dream, even a nightmare, and that soon she'd wake up safe and sound in her bed. For my part I wanted to get it over with. If I was going to die, I wanted it to be a quick death and a clean one.

After her silent examination of Hebe's neck Mrs. H stepped over to the sink, filled the kettle and put it on to heat. She returned to the table and sat down opposite us. She said nothing, her silence a negotiating tactic as it had been with Hebe's father. After a couple of minutes Hebe opened her mouth to speak, but her mother held up her hand to shush her. Hebe thought the better of whatever it was she'd wanted to say. I sat as still as I could, my hands in my lap, but I never flinched when Mrs. H looked at me, which she did when she'd tired of staring at Hebe.

The water boiled. Hebe's mom rose and went to the cupboard and pulled out three mugs. She added teabags and filled the mugs and brought them with their saucers to the table and set them down, one in front of each of us and one for herself. She sat back down and resumed her stare.

Then she roared with laughter.

I mean, she really let loose. Her laugh was full-throated, but neither Hebe nor I dared to join her. The most we could do was look quickly at each other before returning our eyes to Mrs. H.

Her laughter subsided a little and she wiped her eyes where the tears had started. She tried to speak, but laughter prevented it once more. Finally, she gathered herself together enough and, after a couple of hiccups, looked at us again.

"Oh my lord. Look at the two of you."

There was a gleam in her eye now, but I think it was a friendly one. Love, even. I was right when she rose and came around the table to lean over and hug Hebe, who put up her arm to pull her mother closer. Mrs. H stepped over and did the same with me, and I felt her left breast press against my shoulder. I wondered if she knew. I figured she did, but she didn't move away.

After a last squeeze, Hebe's mom returned to her place and fished the teabag out of her mug. She sighed, but it wasn't a mean sigh.

"I mean, really. When are you kids going to learn?"

"Mom, we..." Hebe started to say, but her mother put up her hand once more to silence her.

"Let me guess, Hebe." She looked at me. "And you, Sam."

She laughed.

"You lost track of time, right?"

She held up her hand again when we started to reply. She snickered.

"I wonder what you were doing?"

When we opened our mouths to answer that one her hand went up yet again.

"No, don't tell me. I don't want to know."

She took a sip of her tea.

"You're probably wondering why your father, Hebe, isn't here waiting for you, right?"

We nodded.

"He would have been, if he'd called at midnight and you weren't here, but there was an emergency at the restaurant and he's going to be there all night getting things organized. So he doesn't know."

She paused. Looked at each of us again.

"Drink your tea. You need it."

She was right. The tea was delicious and soothing. What she said next shocked me. Thrilled me, too.

"And I'm not going to tell him."

At that, Hebe jumped up and ran around the table to hug her mom and kiss her cheek. Her mom turned and pulled Hebe tight, then kissed her briefly on the lips.

"Sit down, sweetie."

By then I was on the other side of Mrs. H and leaned down to hug her and kiss her cheek. As she'd done with Hebe, Mrs. H held my face in her hands and kissed me on my lips. Only this time she lingered a little, to my surprise and pleasure. After a moment she pushed me away and gave a little laugh.

"Down, boy."

I looked at Hebe, who was smiling, and returned to my chair.